Wednesday, December 12, 2012

A Poem by Sherry Steiner

In The Forest...
For two hours straight
night begins to fall.
Deep in thought
shall I open the window?
These violets smell sweet.
The odds are that
everyday except Tuesday
you can catch more flies with honey
than vinegar.
Yes. To handle with kid gloves
to pull one's leg, O…
she cuts her finger in the forest.
To stand one's ground
year in and year out
I am exhausted!
Yes, to saddle with responsibilities
to be a horse of another color -
Consequently he prefers to go to Italy !
Yes, to rise up in rebellion
within an inch of
Unscrupulous behavior -
my head whirls…
at dawn
at dawn.
Sherry Steiner
Housatonic ma

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